


On the 23rd minute

by UMsArchive



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Random prompt, just fluff, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:11:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9442082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UMsArchive/pseuds/UMsArchive
Summary: Yuri’s phone accidentally autocorrects ‘best friend’ to ‘boyfriend’ when he tags Otabek in a picture on Instagram.





	

Yuri liked taking pictures of Otabek. And with Otabek. He had a very wide collection compelling their two years of friendship. He posted each and every one of them on Instagram for keeping. And luckily, he'd always been a constant social media updater, so that it didn't seem at all out of character.  But truthfully he mostly just took the pictures for himself. Posting them had other additional advantages, still: the pride in proudly showcasing the hashtag ‘bestfriends’ underneath their pictures. It was a claim he was very protective of and made him immensely happy. 

 

He and Otabek could only see each other a few times a year. Each of the passing two years, one of them had managed to fly out for the other's birthday.  Otherwise, they only found the time to hang out when competition happened to bring them together. The rest of the time, they’d have to resort to social media and texting. But he always insisted on talking over skype, complaining that texting was just too hard at home when he was all tired (although they texted at the rink and Yuuri’s messages were anything but short or few of), using as an excuse to see and hear him oftener. He couldn’t quite find a word for it, but it just made him feel internally giddy and warm, a strange ticklish feeling in his chest every time his bestfriend smiled or laughed, in particular.

 

He always changed it when he knew he'd meet Otabek and didn't unlock his phone around people, but his phone's background was a picture of Otabek. Not them together. Just Otabek. It was a really good photo of him. It had initially been a picture of the two, but the more he looked at it, the less adequate he himself looked and the better Otabek did and he ended up cropping his own face in lieu of his bestfriend’s. He told himself it was not a big deal, while a smaller voice in his head was asking the obvious ‘if it’s not a big deal, why do you hide it?’.

 

He attributed it to the fact that their united fans have been constantly talking lately about ‘shipping them’, calling them their ‘OTP’ and other things of the kind. The second most mortifying moment of his life was when he asked Mila to explain those terms to him. But the true most mortifying one was when Otabek asked him in return to explain them to him, too. He ended the fast paced speech all red with an awkward ‘which is so stupid, haha’, receiving an equally red face and awkward reply from the other: ‘um, yeah’. 

 

The previous night, they had been out together for Yuri’s 18th birthday, and since it was an occasion that seemed to ask for alcohol, they had been out for hours, playing a game: going from bar to bar, throwing a coin over the drinks’ menu; whatever it landed on, they ordered it. As they went on like that, Yuri kept on taking pictures, but didn’t upload any. He’d choose one he looked as close to as good as Otabek as he could manage and look for them not to look ‘compromising’ as Yakov had warned him against (‘drunkards don’t attract sponsors’).

 

When the game became boring and they got tired of the crowds, having gone quite tipsy already, they decided to get back to Yuri’s apartment, going upstairs with two more bottles of wine from the corner store.They laid sprawled on Yuri’s couch, sipping from fancy glasses Yuri had never used before, watching a movie none of them would remember even the title of in the morning, limbs tangled, one of Otabek’s hand playing absently with strands of Yuri’s hair. 

 

Yuri’s phone buzzed and he picked it up to find a birthday message from Yuuri and Viktor (both in Japan at the time). That reminded him he should pick a birthday photo to post. He scrolled through the gallery and choosing the right one didn’t turn out that hard. Admittedly, he didn’t look much at his side of the picture in the process. But there was one particular photo in which Otabek had been caught laughing so openly, so off-guardedly, his head leaning in towards Yuri, his eyes crinkled, his hand running just so softly, so slightly through his previously well-combed hair - now a soft mess, short fringes of it falling across his forehead. Yuri, next to him, had a soft, happy, but focused expression, obviously intent on getting the picture right. His lips were slightly parted, as if on the verge of saying something, but it somehow looked good that way. The alcohol was not in sight, so he guessed it could be catalogued as Yakov-proof, too. He uploaded it, struggling and stumbling as he tried to type a coherent description. Luckily, autocorrect existed and he just picked the words as they popped up, not forgetting to include his #bestfriends hashtag among them. Then he threw his phone away, slowly dozing off as Otabek massaged his head. 

 

\----

 

Yuri woke up, startled by an unexpected buzzing on his ear and and cheek. He raised his head dizzily, finding his phone beneath it. He narrowed his eyes down at his screen. It was 9:23. And it showed thousands of notifications from his latest picture - his fans really needed to chill - and… messages from all of his rink mates, including Yuuri, his rink in-law? Well, they had all already wished him ‘happy birthday’, this was strange. He was sure it could wait. Maybe Yakov has handed out their schedules for going back in practice already. He had told them to notice him - he just hated to check his e-mails. He opened Instagram to take just a quick look through the comments - part horrified of his fans, part fishing for compliments.

 

_ [I fucking knew it I’M SQUEALING] _

 

_ [THIS SHIP HAS SAILED MY FRIENDS] _

 

_ [I can’t brEATH I’M SO HAPPY I LOVE THEM ] _

 

_ [LOOK AT HOW HAPPY OUR KITTY IS I’M SO HAPPY FOR THEM] _

 

_ [Omg omg congrats guys] _

 

_ [It says ‘#boyfriends’ now I can die in peace it was nice knowing y’all] _

 

Wha-

 

**‘It says #boyfriends’.**

 

**_#boyfriends._ **

 

Yuri felt dizzy, his whole world falling on him. His body burned in its entirety. With trembling hands, he scrolled back up at the picture, reading the description carefully.

 

#boyfriends

 

**_#boyfriends_ **

 

Oh god no... He flipped, getting an indignated hum from his side. Otabek looked around disoriented, eyes narrowed with sleepiness and confusion. Oh hell no…

 

“Anything wrong?” Otabek breathed in with a soft moan, raising his head, his voice deep and gruff, his lean hand casually moving through his hair, getting the free hairs and strands back into place. 

 

Yuri blinked. “Nope,” he answered perhaps too fast and gulped, looking away from the sight of THAT and opening his messages.

 

Mila: Our little kitten has been keeping secrets from us!! You lucky bastard THOUGH ^-^

 

Georgi: I hope love will treat you kind, dear Yuri. You’re so young, so innocent, you have yet to be hurt…

 

Viktor: OUR LITTLE YOURIO HAS GROWN UP I’M GOING TO CRY T-T

 

Yuuri: Viktor just showed me the picture. Congratulations to both of you.

 

There were others. Yuri didn’t want to know anymore…One was from JJ. Why had he ever even exchanged numbers with JJ?

 

“Wow, did you tag me in anything? This number of notifications can’t be from my stuff.”

 

“Don’t look!” Yuri literally snatched Otabek’s phone from him, standing up and putting some distance between them, starting to pace the length of his living room with both phones continuing to buzz in his tight grip.

 

“Yuri, what exactly-”

 

“Just give me a few moments. Let me-,” he breathed in, overwhelmed. But he didn’t know at all what exactly he was supposed to do. How was he going to be able to explain to all these people that, oops, he had been drunk and fucked up? That was not a Yakov-friendly announcement either. But mostly, he didn’t know how he was going to break it to Otabek.

 

One of the phones started ringing and it was not Yuri’s ringtone.

 

“Yuri, that might be something I need to answer,” Otabek approached him, reaching for his phone. 

 

But Yuri jumped a couple steps back, almost knocking off the TV, “No!”

 

“Ok,” Otabek said calmly, not trying to step any closer. “Just look at the screen and tell me who it is.”

 

Yuri squinted his eyes down at the flashing screen.“Jadyra,” he read.

 

“It’s my sister, Yuri. This might be important,” he tentatively reached for his phone again.

 

Yuri grasped it tighter. “No, she has your Instagram,” he negated vehemently. 

 

Otabek gave him an understanding look. “So that’s the problem? What did you post?”

 

“It’s nothing out of the ordinary,” Yuri kicked his foot against the floor, looking frustrated. “Not the photo. But I accidentally-,” he sighed, reluctantly handing Otabek his phone, now ringing again.

 

Otabek continued looking intently at him as he took the phone and answered it, “Hey, how are you?” Listening. “What do you mean?” Listening again.

 

Otabek’s eyes widened at Yuri. Yuri covered his with his hands with a slapping sound. 

 

“Oh, coach is calling right now and I’ve been waiting for an answer on something from him for days. I’ll call you back right away about that, okay? Yeah, yeah, promise I will.” And he hang up. Yuri kept his face hidden, waiting for Otabek to say something. But he didn’t.

  
  


He departed his fingers slightly to take a look at him. Otabek was now looking down at his phone. It was the damned post. Yuri covered his eyes again and whimpered. 

 

And then Otabek started laughing. 

 

It was a melodic sound and Yuri felt his cheeks coloring with embarrassment and something more. His hands traveled up from his face to his hair, gripping tightly. “Stop laughing. People are sending links with fanart of our future wedding,” he said through gritted teeth. 

 

“Yeah, I know. In this one we’re both wearing a dress. Obviously, it doesn’t look very flattering on my body, although the artist has definitely tried.”

 

“You’d still be attractive even in a sack, but that’s not the point. What do we do now?” Yuri asked, not missing a beat after that first affirmation that he hoped the other would let pass. 

 

“Obviously, we have to get married now, but we can have an amicable divorce in around 10 years, say we have drifted apart, we no longer want the same things in life…” 

 

“Of course a rushed marriage at 18 is doomed to end up in a divorce at 28. I have a lot to do. I have to go on dates,” Yuri lamented.

 

“Good point, let’s go on a date.”

 

"Beka, start taking this seriously."

 

"I am. I am asking you out."

 

"No, I mean- FUCK YOU ARE."

 

"...sorry, is that- I'll just take that back."

 

"Don't you dare take that back," Yuri quarreled more indignantly than he'd planned. 

 

"Oh," Otabek deadpanned.

 

"Oh my god...," Yuri mumbled, dropping his head back in his hands.

A pause.

 

"Should I call my sister and tell her we ARE dating then?"

 

"FUCK IT, just do it," he threw his hands in the air, defeated.  


 

"My battery's dying."

 

"Just take my fucking phone," Yuri threw the smartphone in frustration.

 

"Since when is this older photo of me your background?"

 

_ Really now? _

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I bullshitted all this at midnight, I'm sorry! It was a Tumblr potential headcanon.


End file.
